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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23609260">The Devil’s In The Details</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrrrine/pseuds/cathrrrine'>cathrrrine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brother-Sister Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mom Reader, Parent-Child Relationship, Winchester Sister, no beta we die like men, sibling angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:40:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23609260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrrrine/pseuds/cathrrrine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Miss L/N.” FRIDAY’s voice echoed through the room.</p><p>“Yes, FRIDAY?”</p><p>“There two young men here to see you.”</p><p>You shared a look with Steve, confusion painted all over your faces.</p><p>“Who is it?” You asked her, but it was too late. Before she could answer, the elevator doors opened right in front of you and revealed the two people you’d least expect to see today, or ever for that matter.</p><p>“Y/N, are those your...” Steve trailed off, watching you as you made wordless eye contact with your long lost brothers.</p><p>“Sam. Dean.”</p><p>“Y/N. We need to talk to you.”<br/>—<br/>When the Winchesters come to a point where they have to come face to face with their long-lost sister, they’re forced to face the emotional rollercoaster that they’ve buried all these years.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/You, Steve Rogers/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Elevator Doors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, fuck timelines and accurate years. This is set in Post-Age Of Ultron and somewhere at the end of Season 11 for Supernatural. A little spoiler warning if you haven’t watched S11! Unless you don’t mind any, so go ahead and read it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Well, I don’t think it works that way Tony.” You laughed, standing in front of the quinjet as you waited for the others to disembark.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You owe me a favour, you know.” He scoffed playfully. “Maybe he’ll convince you.” His gaze shifted to a figure behind you.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Who-“</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Mommy!” The little voice you recognised all too well surprised you. When you turned around to see the owner of the voice looking up to you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, you couldn’t help but reciprocate the act.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, bud!” You grinned, picking your little boy up from where he stood. You carried him on your hip, with your arms wrapped around him lovingly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tony smirked, patting you on the back in a friendly way and ruffling the little boy’s hair before he left to find Pepper, knowing you’ve forgotten all about your conversation with him earlier.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Where’s your daddy?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“He’s right here.” The man you loved walked just seconds after your son did. “Hey, mama.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, Cap.” You leaned over to kiss him. You had just gotten home from a mission. It wasn’t unusual for you to be greeted by your small family almost immediately after you came back. It was the same for your boyfriend, Steve Rogers.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“How are you?” Steve asked, his blue eyes meeting yours.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fine. I’m unscratched if that’s what you’re asking. And the mission went well too.” You walked alongside him as you carried your son. The three of you made your way outside the hangar, Steve knowing you well enough to know you were on the hunt for some food.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Did momma catch some bad guys today?” Your three year old son, James, asked. He wasn’t that exposed to what your job entailed, but you and Steve had give him a small idea of it. You figured he was too young to know that his parents were basically killers, so you resorted to telling him, quote and unquote, that you caught bad guys for a living. It wasn’t a lie, technically.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yes, my little pumpkin.” You kissed his nose. “Momma caught a lo-o-o-t of bad guys.” You said, dragging the word ‘lot’, which made him giggle.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Minutes later you were sat in the kitchen, munching on a cookie with a glass of iced tea in your hand as you watched Steve cook for you. He was more of the chef in your relationship, the last time you tried to make anything other than breakfast, it didn’t end so well. Ever since then, he made lunch and dinner while you handled breakfast. That is, whenever the both of you had time to sit down and eat together.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“There you go.” He set the plate down in front of you, a big goofy smile plastered across his face.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, Steve. This is why I love you.” You almost moaned at the sight of food in front of you, the delicious smell filling your nostrils and exciting your taste buds.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Really? You love me for my cooking and not for my gorgeous blue eyes?” He mocked, “Or maybe my handsome face?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Nope. Just your cooking.” You said albeit a little distractedly as you chowed down on your meal.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Damn. Not even my abs?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I guess I can make an exception.” You shrugged, playing along.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Harsh. Did you hear that James? Your mom only loves daddy for my cooking.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“But I love your cooking too daddy.” James looked to him innocently with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Really?” Steve pretended to be shocked, putting a hand over his mouth. “Oh wow! Thank you James!“</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It made both of them laugh, and your chest swelled with warmth and love just by looking at them. Not once have you taken this for granted, everyday you woke up praising whatever God that made it possible for you to live a life this great. Sure, it had it’s ups and downs, but with your family in front of you...everything in the world seemed right.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You would die for your son and for your boyfriend. Though the both of you had been living like a married couple, you weren’t actually one. You had the conversation with him, and he knew you weren’t ready for that kind of title yet. Even though it didn’t make sense, because you were committed to him and this life. You only had eyes for him and only him...but something about the word ‘marriage’ and ‘husband and wife’ opened up a pocket of fear inside of you.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But that didn’t matter, at least for now. The sound of Steve and James laughing and giggling like idiots brought you out of your thoughts.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s3"><em>Nothing could ruin how perfect this is right now</em>, </span>
  <span class="s2">you thought.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But little did you know.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">——</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Alright, let me hop in the shower and get changed into something less...nasty.” You said to Steve, motioning to your uniform catsuit.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I wouldn’t say nasty is the right word for it.” He winked. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Careful, Rogers. You could get me pregnant again with that look in the blink of an eye.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s not so bad. I wouldn’t mind another one, look at him, he’s so cute.” He cooed at the fast-asleep James.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t wake him up.” You whispered, reaching over to tuck the little boy’s hair out of his face.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The both of you were walking towards the elevator, with your son fast asleep in Steve’s arms. After you ate, you and Steve talked for a while as you loaded the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Apparently, his giggle fit with his dad was enough to tire him out. Your little boy fell asleep in his chair before he made it to his bed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Miss L/N.” FRIDAY’s voice echoed through the room. You weren’t so scared it would wake James up, he was used to the A.I. Plus, he was a heavy sleeper.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yes, FRIDAY?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“There two young men here to see you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You shared a look with Steve, confusion painted all over your faces.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Who is it?” You asked her, but it was too late. Before she could answer, the elevator doors opened right in front of you and revealed the two people you’d least expect to see today, or ever for that matter.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Y/N, are those your...” Steve trailed off, watching you as you made wordless eye contact with your long lost brothers.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sam. Dean.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Y/N. We need to talk to you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Juice Box</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam and Dean confront Y/N.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Y/HC)- Your hair color.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re here for Y/N Winchester.” Sam called out to the strange voice that filled the room. The very same voice had greeted them the moment they stepped into the lobby.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you have an appointment?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Appointment? Who the hell does she think she is? Some kind of celebrity?” Dean complained, a scowl starting to grow on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on Dean, chill.” Sam tried to keep his brother calm. “She’s an Avenger now. Say what you want, but she is important.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Winchesters couldn’t help but be awed by the magnificent structure and interior of the building when they first walked in. The Stark Tower would be the last place they’d ever go to on any other day. But this wasn’t any other day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, we do not have an appointment. But could we set one up right now?” Sam once again talked to the air. He kind of made out that he was talking to an A.I, the too-formal voice bordering on robotic giving it away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, but there is no Y/N Winchester here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? Sammy, you said she lived in this stupid tower?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought she did. Maybe she moved?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you looking for Y/N L/N?” The voice replied.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“L/N?” Dean made a face at his brother. “Who the hell is that?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">“I think she changed her last name.” Sam gulped, trying to hide the hurt on his face. Dean went silent. They were both thinking the same thing. If she erased Winchester from her name, there’d be no way in hell she’d be happy to see them at all.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, we’re looking for her.” Sam gulped nervously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please place your hands on the glass.” The voice instructed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What glass?” Dean questioned, and immediately a couple of square glass boxes glowed in front of them. When they looked closer, they saw the shape of a hand etched onto it’s surface.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s a scanner.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They did as they were told, placing their right hands on the glass. It glowed yellow a few seconds after.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Miss L/N is on the sixth floor.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As soon as the elevator doors closed, Sam and Dean shifted uncomfortably. They were both nervous to see their sister again, after all these years.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dean-“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s too late to turn back now. We have to tell her what we need to.” The older of the Winchesters sighed, knowing full well what thoughts were swimming in Sam’s mind. He knew because he shared those thoughts too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the doors opened, they were hit with the reality of the moment. As soon as they saw their sister, their minds went blank. She was dressed in a leather jumpsuit, and next to her was a familiar blond man carrying a little boy who had fallen asleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After what seemed like forever, she finally broke the silence. “Sam. Dean.” Y/N acknowledged them, breathless.</span>
</p><p class="p2">They stepped out of the elevator, worry evident on their faces. You haven’t seen your brothers in years, so long that they’ve become nothing but a distant memory to you.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Y/N, we need to talk to you.” Sam, your younger brother, stepped forward. You were frozen in shock. The last time you saw them, you had been disowned. That was almost seven years ago.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you want?” You said, with no hint of joy in your voice. Steve could tell how confused and angry you were, noticing the tremor in your voice that only he could point out. He saw the way your nostrils were flaring despite your efforts to hide it. He would’ve walked away had he been anybody else, but he knew you needed him by your side right now. More than ever.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We need to tell you something.” Sam insisted. “It’s important, I promise.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You supposed he was telling the truth. There’d be no other reason for them to come here and meet you face to face. They hadn’t contacted you in a long time. You couldn’t think of a reason why they’d be here in the first place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then tell me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think you might wanna sit down for this.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Sam was doing all the talking. All the while, Dean just stood there, looking at anywhere else besides you. </span> <span class="s2"> <em>All these years and he still hasn’t forgiven me?</em> </span> <span class="s1"> You thought.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Babe.” Steve’s voice alerted you. You had almost forgotten he was there, and you were grateful he didn’t leave. “Come on, let’s go to the living room.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He grabbed your hand, tilting his head in the direction of the couches. You took a moment, eyeing the living room as a thousand thoughts bounced around your head. </span> <span class="s2"> <em>I could say no. I could walk away and leave them just like they did with me.</em> </span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Y/N.” Steve grabbed your chin gently, turning your head to face them. “You should go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You nodded slowly. He was right, and you hated that he was. But no man knew you better than he did, and he knew you’d regret it if you pushed your brothers away now. “You should go too, he should be tucked in bed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically. In all honesty, you wanted him to be with you. But this was something you needed to handle on your own, whether you liked it or not. Plus, you couldn’t risk your baby boy waking up in the middle of a heated conversation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” You planted a kiss on James cheek before pecking Steve on the lips. “Go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He squeezed your hand before letting go and walking to the elevator. You watched as the doors closed, knowing that once they did, you’d have to face the two men standing in front of you.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Your brothers didn’t miss the exchange between you and Steve, and they couldn’t help but wonder who they were to you. But there was no room for any other questions, their minds focused on one thing only; telling you the news.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You lead them to the living room, making a beeline for your favourite couch. You sat on it cross-legged, grabbing the fluffy pillow next to you and putting it on top of your legs. You held your hands together, waiting for them to start the conversation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We came here to tell you something important.” Sam began, clearing his throat nervously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I know. What is it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not exactly...good news so much as it is bad news.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You nodded curtly, trying to look like you were listening, but you were distracted by Dean. He had made the decision to not sit down and instead he paced around the room, looking at all the objects rather than making eye contact with you. Your eyes followed him, and it wasn’t long before Sam noticed and did the same too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, what? You still won’t look at me after all these years?” Venom dripped from your tone, laced with hurt and anger that you no longer wanted to hide from them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dean stopped ‘studying’ the piece of decoration that he held in his hands, trying to think of a response. “I’m not the one who changed my last name.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You narrowed your eyes, “You told me I wasn’t a part of the family anymore. I thought, might as well.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Well, how nice of you, <em>Miss </em></span> <span class="s2"><em>L/N</em>.</span> <span class="s1">” He said the name menacingly.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">You stood up, fuming with anger. “Seven years, Dean. </span> <span class="s2">Seven. </span> <span class="s1">That’s how long it’s been.”</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look who kept count.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, fuck off. If you’re gonna be an asshole why don’t you see yourself out?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Guys!” The tallest of them three yelled, joining them in standing up. “Can’t we just...talk?!” He was desperate for a civil conversation, especially since what he was about to tell his sister was important.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You chewed the inside of your cheek, breathing heavily as you tried to keep your cool. You were far more mature now than you were back then, and you knew arguing wasn’t the best way to handle this as much as you wanted to.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look, Y/N. A lot of shit has went down since you left- we left you.” Sam corrected himself. You noticed his change of words, and you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. “And I know, you don’t want anything to do with us anymore.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You felt a pang in your chest. You recognised the pain, it was the same pain that almost destroyed you when your brothers left you. It wasn’t true, what Sam said. There was a part of you that missed them deeply. They were family after all.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But what I’m about to tell you is...it’s...” he struggled to find the words. Dean took a deep breath before cutting him short.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mom’s alive, Y/N.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You weren’t sure you heard him right, blinking hard a few times just to make sure you weren’t out of it. “Come again?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mom is alive. Our mother, Mary Winchester, is alive.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room started to spin. You weren’t sure how to feel. “H-how?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s a real long story. The short and sweet version is, God’s sister brought her back.” Dean answered.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God has a sister?” You didn’t really care if he did. But the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who you’ve longed to meet your whole life...was alive. Your mother’s death had basically been the reason why the Winchester’s were hunters. And so much has happened since then.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When your father died, you spent months feeling guilty at the fact that you never got to truly, truly know the man. You had believed you were unfortunate enough to be someone who never really knew their parents. But now...you couldn’t believe that you had a chance to do just that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That is definitely not the short and sweet version, Dean.” Sam scolded his brother. Then he looked your way, starting to get worried when you didn’t speak for a good minute. “Y/N?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mom...Mom’s alive.” You whispered to yourself. “Where is she now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In our bunker.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">“Bunker?”</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sam and Dean glanced at each other, wondering if they should lay out the whole seven years of their lives for it to make sense to Y/N. “Yeah, we have a bunker now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In Kansas?” You took a wild guess.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right up in Lawrence.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Your brain was buzzing with a thousand questions that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask just yet. The main question was...would they willingly let you back in their lives? Would they let you talk to your now-alive mom?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Y/N,” Sam took a step towards you. “We could take you to her if you want to. That’s what we came here for. We knew you’d want to meet-“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mommy!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sam was cut off for the second time that day, but this time it wasn’t so harsh. And it didn’t come from an adult man.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, sorry, honey.” Steve came in carrying the (Y/HC) boy who was crying uncontrollably. “He had a nightmare. I tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t stop crying. He wanted you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">James often had nightmares recently, andyou were the only one that could soothe him. All thoughts of the previous conversation disappeared as your focus shifted to your motherly duties. “Oh, no. Come here baby boy. Momma’s here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As you reached for your wailing son, your brothers’ eyes went wide. When the looked at each other, they had the same expression; confusion and guilt. The fact that they had a nephew that they didn’t know about this whole time made the regret of not ever contacting you in the span of seven years stronger. Guilt churned in their stomachs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steve had went to the kitchen to fetch his son a juice box, but when he came back he had a couple of beers in his hands, along with the juice. He handed the beers to the two shocked men wordlessly, and they accepted it graciously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">James was now sniffling as you rubbed his back soothingly, planting kisses to his head now and then. Steve jabbed the straw through the juice box before giving it to you.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want some juice, baby?” You gently put the juice box in his hands. With a pout he nodded, putting the straw to his lips and drinking quietly. “Shh, now. Everything’s gonna be alright.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After a while, his breathing returned back to normal. It was only then you remembered your brothers were watching the whole thing. You looked up to them, seeing the confused expression on their faces as they sipped their beers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where’d you get those?” You whispered to Steve, nodding slightly towards the beers in their hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fridge. I think it’s Tony’s.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You gave him a small smile, “Are you trying to win their approval? You know you don’t need it, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just trying to be a good...host.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of what? This isn’t a party, Rogers.” You almost laughed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who’s that?” The small, sleepy voice interrupted your conversation. James pointed his tiny finger toward Sam and Dean, who sat up straighter when they saw the little boy look at them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You weren’t sure who to introduce them as. You didn’t even know if they wanted to be anyone to your son. Steve’s eyes met yours, and he raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘Want me to handle it?’. You chewed your lip nervously, hoping your son would just forget the question.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But luck wasn’t on your side today. “Mommy, who’s that?” He grabbed your shirt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um...” you sighed. In that moment, your eyes met Sam’s. His eyebrows were furrowed, an expression you recognised as his stressed-out look from growing up with him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re your...uncles.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Part of you was thankful that he replied, but part of you was upset because it would be cruel to tell a three-year-old boy that and then leave forever.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uncle?” James tilted his head, putting his pointing finger down. Whenever he said ‘uncle’, it sounded like ‘un-caw-l’. It was the cutest thing ever. Usually it would bring a smile to your face, but now all it did was worry you.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy.” He turned to Steve.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, bud?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”Can I have some of uncle’s drink?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steve stifled a laugh, “No, baby. I think you should stick to your juice box.”<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You looked at Sam, eyebrows raised. He shrugged, a small smile growing on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Boy, were you in for a life-changing ride.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Little Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Y/N meets her mom.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The sound of rain pattering against the roof of the car almost lulled you to sleep, so you turned up the music, hoping to wake yourself up a little with the upbeat tune playing on the radio. Your fingers tapped against the wheel, enjoying the rhythm of the song.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">In front of you was the sleek, black 67’ Chevy Impala that you knew like the back of your hand. How could you not? You basically lived in it for more than half of your life—it was a home for you and your brothers because it was the one constant you had in your lives. You still remembered it’s every nook and cranny and the way the leather seat felt under your skin. If you closed your eyes you could still hear the hum of its engine.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You were following them from behind to drive to their bunker. A day ago you never even thought you’d say that you were going to meet your mom for the first time since you were two years old. </span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">Steve knew about your past. You’ve laid all the cards on the table somewhere along your relationship. He knew about your brothers, your hunting life, the kind of monsters you’ve encountered. He was no stranger to the life you lived before you were an Avenger, so when you told him that your mother was brought back to life, he wasn’t </span> <span class="s3">that </span> <span class="s2">surprised.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Although he was shocked and in disbelief for a moment, it didn’t take too much to convince him that what you were saying was true. So, here you were with a bag packed if you had to stay overnight, on your way to meet Mary Winchester.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Be careful, angel face. Call me as soon as you get there and call me if anything happens.” He had told you before you opened the door of your car. “Promise?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I promise, babe. Don’t worry about me.” You smiled as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m the one who should be worried. What if James gets his nightmares again?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, hey. It’ll be fine. It’s not like this is the first time it will be just the two of us.” He chuckled, looking down to James who was hugging your leg tightly. “Right bud?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m gonna miss mommy.” He pouted, and you couldn’t resist the urge to bend down and pick him up, setting him on your hip.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Mommy’s gonna miss you too, pumpkin.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. “Take care of daddy for me, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Will you be gone a long time again?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No, it won’t be long, baby.” You assured him, but a small part of you wondered if that was going to be the case. You hoped what you said to him was true. Spending a long time away from your baby seemed like a nightmare. “Before you know it, I’ll be here to plant kisses on your cheeks again.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He giggled, “Okay, mommy.” He grabbed your hair in his tiny fists, making you scrunch your nose up in fondness. After handing him to Steve, Tony and Natasha went over to hug you, knowing that what you were about to face was anything but easy.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You know the drill. Call me if you need me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Their support meant everything to you. In the whole six years of knowing them, you’ve begun to think of them as family.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You slowed the car down as you turned to a narrow intersection, and you hit the brakes as soon as the Impala in front of you came to a stop.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The place you were parked in front of fit the word ‘bunker’ perfectly. It wasn’t anything flashy or shiny, just a concrete building on a small hill that was covered with patches of dry grass and soil.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You pressed the button that stopped the car engine—thanks to Tony, everyone on the team was suited with high-tech equipment—and stepped out of the car, walking towards your brothers who had done the same.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“This is the bunker, huh?” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket, already feeling the chilly breeze.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy like your tower. But we make do.” Dean replied with a sharpness to his tone, not even bothering to make eye contact. He strolled off to the entrance and you followed behind, keeping your distance.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">When you stepped in, you took in all of it with a wave of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. You observed the layout of the building; the metal railings in front of you, the high ceilings and the tiled walls. There was a octagon-shaped table with a built-in map on the glass surface, a number of cushioned chairs surrounding it.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You gawked in awe, it wasn’t anything you had expected. Part of you was jealous that your brothers had found the bunker after you had left, but there was a bigger part of you that was elated that your brothers had made it into a home of their own.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You could tell they did so. You recognised a few of their own stuff scattered here and there throughout the room; Sam’s jacket draped over a chair, a coffee mug on the table, a pair Dean’s sunglasses that he had worn since he was 20 near it. It was all just little things, but they were personal items that made it obvious that the space belonged to them.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The three of you had spent so many years living from motel to motel that having a consistent place to go back to every time seemed like heaven. You already knew how that felt like, and you were glad they did too.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah.” Sam whispered from behind you. “I know.” He saw the glint in your eye when you looked around the room.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You pursed your lips, not knowing what to say.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Mom’s in there.” Dean pointed through an archway, you looked through it and saw a row of tables lined up. “She knows we brought you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">You gulped, nervous and excited at the same time. You could feel your heart throbbing in your chest. </span> <em> <span class="s3">I’m not ready for this.</span> </em></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“She’s waiting, Y/N.” Sam put a hand on your shoulder, albeit a little reluctantly. “It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Your feet dragged itself to walk down the stairs and through the archway, finding that it was a library room as soon as you saw the bookracks that lined the walls. It was a well-lit space, with a number of magnificent pillars standing in between the bookracks and the tables.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Y/N.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You whipped your head around to see a blonde woman with familiar gray-blue eyes, the same ones you’ve seen in your reflection. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of her. It seemed like a dream to see someone you’ve only ever seen in pictures in the flesh.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her lips curled up into a small smile as she tried to make light of the situation. Mary took one step towards you. She wasn’t sure what was going through your head, she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but all she wanted to do was scoop you up into her arms and embrace you in a bone-crushing hug.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“M-mom.” You stuttered, tears welling up in your eyes. You were at a loss for words. “Hi.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, my little angel.” She ran to you, unable to contain it anymore. You let her wrap her arms around you as you nuzzled your face in the crook of her neck. “You’ve gotten so big. Look at you!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Mary missed her daughter. She wasn’t too glad to hear that you had broken off from the family and didn’t stay in contact with Sam and Dean. Even though she was more than happy to be with her sons, her heart ached at the absence of her only daughter at their reunion, not knowing if she’ll ever get to see you at all.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I missed you, mom.” You exhaled a shaky breath into her shoulder, arms still wrapped around her like you were clinging on for dear life. She was well aware how meaningful this was for you. For her, it felt like it was just yesterday that she was tucking all of you in bed, but it had been more than thirty years since you last saw her, and that hurt her very deeply. It was emotional for her too, and a little bit strange, but she couldn’t deny that what you were going through was different from what she was feeling.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“God, you’re not so little anymore. I can’t believe it.” She pulled away, wiping the tears off your cheeks with her hands and kissing the top of your head. “I missed you too.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t think you know this yet,” you beamed when a thought popped into your head. “I’m a mom now, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Y/N! That’s amazing.” Her eyebrows shot up, a big grin starting to grow on her face. “You know, I’ve always wanted a grandchild, but this feels weird considering the fact that I still think you’re two years old.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">You laughed, tears still flowing greatly down your cheeks. “Do you want to meet him?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Of course, honey. More than anything.” Then she started to wonder, “Do I...get to meet the father too?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, yes please.” Another breathy laugh escaped your lips again, the joy bubbling in your chest was too much to be contained. “His name is Steve Rogers. He’s a great guy, mom. You’ll love him.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What about your baby?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“James. He’s three!” You chortled, face beaming with pride. “I have so much to tell you, Mom. You have no idea.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “I’m here, Y/N. You can tell me all about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Unbeknownst to the both of you, the two men seated on the chairs in the room next to you had been listening quietly to your conversation. Sam threw a look at Dean, a stern gaze that was so bone-chilling, it even made Dean shift in his seat.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“He’s three Dean. She has a <em>three year old son</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So?” He tried to look unbothered.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t you feel any remorse? Regret? She’s been alone all these years without us and we never even sent her a text.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“She hasn’t been alone, Sammy. She’s obviously had that Captain America dude around for a while, not to mention that she’s friends with the literal Avengers.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s2">“You know</span> <span class="s2">that is <em>not</em> what I mean.” Sam scowled. “We’re her brothers, Dean. We should’ve been there nonetheless.”</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dean rolled his eyes, returning the same dirty look to him before standing up and heading to the kitchen. “I’m not talking about this now.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sam sighed, leaning back on his chair as he watched his brother walk away helplessly. He knew pushing him further would do no good.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">This was hard for him. Y/N had been there for all his life, before they separated. She always had his back. When he got in trouble, she defended him. When Dean was a bit too annoying, she defended him. And when he wanted to go to Stanford, she defended him. She had been his biggest supporter and was nothing but a good sister to him. He wished he realised that before it was too late. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">No matter the hardships he had been through all his life, he knew one thing for sure; his biggest mistake was abandoning Y/N all those years ago.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Would she forgive him for a sin so cruel?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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